


You're made of Sugar, Fire, and All I Desire

by AU Mer-Maid (neonstardust)



Series: Dork Drabbles [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bad Cooking, Drabble Collection, Fluff? In My Fic? It's More Likely Than You Think, Food mentions, Food was Sacrifices to Make This Fluff Possible, One Shot, Post-Canon, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, Very Breif Mentions of Drugs that were not Actually Drugs, gratuitous use of time skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 04:33:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20186317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neonstardust/pseuds/AU%20Mer-Maid
Summary: Shirabu will not be celebrating Valentine's Day.He will not cook every recipe he can find online in a last minute rush.And he will most definitely not heal his bruised ego with a well deserved moonlit hug.Except, maybe just this once.





	You're made of Sugar, Fire, and All I Desire

Shoulder pressed against the door, Shirabu looks at a clock that blinks nearly six p.m. Dammit, he doesn’t have time for this. He tries harder to shove the door closed, but it’s no use. Tendou pushes his way through, planting his hands triumphantly on his hips when he makes it inside.

Eerie eyes survey Shirabu from head to toe. “_Kenjirou_,” he draws out each syllable. “Your senpai graduated last year, and you’re already on drugs?”

Glaring down at the white stains on his shirt, Shirabu growls, “It’s flour.”

Regret washes over him when Tendou’s face lights up. “Oh? You’re cooking?” His nose wrinkles. “Is something on fire?”

“Dammit!” Shirabu runs back to the oven and opens the door. Smoke immediately overflows filling up the entire kitchen.

Leaning against the doorway, Tendou pantomimes taking off a hat. “Rest in pieces.”

* * *

“You burned two cakes, the brownies, and the cookies.” Tendou counts off on his fingers. Shirabu throws a spatula at him. “Oh, and the flambé. In hindsight, I really shouldn't have trusted you with that one.”

Dropping his head onto the counter, Shirabu groans into his arms. “I told you not to come today.”

“Now, now”—Tendou pats Shirabu’s hair—“I promised to help you make a Valentine’s gift for Crush-kun, and I will.” Ignoring Shirabu’s protest that neither of them have even the slightest bit of cooking skills, Tendou checks his watch. “And look! We’ve got just enough time for one more recipe.”

Chills race down Shirabu’s spine. “No. Please, no.” Sitting up, he holds his hands up in surrender. “I give up.” The words taste bitter on his tongue, but not even his pride is worth this level of torment.

“Have faith in me,” Tendou says, but he smiles like the devil himself. He wraps an arm around Shirabu’s shoulders. “This recipe is so easy, even a toddler could do it.”

* * *

Standing on a too cheerful doormat at nearly nine p.m. in the pitch dark, Shirabu prays the ground will open up and swallow him whole. This was a mistake. The entire concept of Valentine’s Day was a mistake. Trusting Tendou was a mistake. He shifts the box from one hand to the other, trying to find a position that doesn’t feel horribly mortifying. Finding none, he turns to flee.

“Shirabu-san?”

Shirabu tenses. Not moving, he meets Yahaba’s confused gaze. “What’re you doing here? I didn’t know you lived around here.” He looks around, as if Shirabu’s house will magically appear from all the way across town.

Without speaking, Shirabu shoves the box into his hands. Brow creased, Yahaba opens it wearily, as if expecting a bomb. Shirabu worries it may actually be one.

“You”—his eyes widen—“made me chocolate hearts?”

Cringing, Shirabu nods. He tries to snatch the box back, but then Yahaba’s arms are around him, hugging him tight. “Thank you.” Warm breath against Shirabu’s ear, he says, “I love them.”

* * *

“Wait. Wait.” Yahaba tries to smother his giggles. “You burned _how many_ cookies?”

“Shut up,” Shirabu groans, burying his face in the warmth of Yahaba’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I’m—”

He breaks off into breathless laughter that makes Shirabu’s heart swell in his chest, so large he can barely think, barely breathe, choking over the vast fondness. Snuggling in closer, words soft as starlight, Shirabu whispers, “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

_You are my only not-mistake._

**Author's Note:**

> I started this series on August 10th, which has always been a special day for me, so I wanted to share this drabble, which has always held a special place in my heart :)


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